The Codependency Series
by Dstar504
Summary: AU. Silva breaks Bond on the island, this is the outcome. Actual Title: Bond and Silva give each other things and maybe are a little codependent. Warning for Canon Character death that is not Silva or Bond. 00Silva aka Silva/Bond. The first chapter deals with a strange habit as warned but not too strange I hope.
1. Bleach

**Summary:** Silva has an odd habit that James discovers.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/N:** This is a bit strange for me and was originally going to be humor but then I was hit with feels so now it might hit you with feels. This story is complete.

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**Bleach**

Bond has been stuck with Silva for too long now. He knows that M has given up on him. Sometimes he hopes, but at this point it's a losing battle. Under him the sheets feel soft on his skin. He has gotten used to this, to Silva. He hates himself for it. So used to it that Silva has gotten very comfortable with him… perhaps too comfortable. Sex is one thing, this is something else.

"What are you doing?"

"Is it not obvious James? I am bleaching my hair."

He wants to be sick, "I do not need to see this."

There is a pause and Silva looks at him forlorn, "If I do not dearheart –"

"Then what?"

Silva traces something that for a moment James cannot see. When his eyes focus he realizes that it's a scar, long and deep tracing up Silva's arm. From when – He doesn't want to think about it. He hadn't realized.

He scoots closer to Silva on the bed and holds his arm and cannot help but kiss up it, try to erase the pain that M caused him. He knows it will not be enough. Slowly he takes the bleach from Silva, "Let me help you."

Yes. Perhaps too comfortable.


	2. The Gift

**Summary:** Silva returns the favor.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/N:** Less strange, still dealing with problems that people have irl that no one seems to address.

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**The Gift**

****James rarely leaves the island, he doesn't see the need. But today Silva comes home humming and drops a package in front of him on the desk. Bond stares at it confused, and Silva gets that grin on his face that tells Bond that he has some sort of plan in mind. The one that reminds James how dangerous this man can be.

"Open it dearheart."

Bond does. What he finds stuns him into silence. And he looks up at Silva calculatingly; there is a meaning behind this gift. He doesn't trust Silva to give it to him without one.

"What is this?" he asks.

The grin on Silva's face gets wider, "James, James oh James. After your little display last night I thought you deserved a gift. One to… return the favor so to speak."

"And this is your idea of returning the favor?"

Inside the box the gun lies gleaming. He is about to say something else when he realizes something about the trigger and about the way the gun is structured. The whole gun is made for someone who is left-handed. Not right. He wonders if Silva knows, the memories of how M verbally beat his left-handedness out of him. How she made him write with his right, drink with his right, do the most mundane tasks with his right until he could hardly remember being left handed at all, _"We don't have time to go about giving all the agents special guns depending on how they shoot with their hands. You will learn to be right handed."_ She had told him.

Bond looks up at Silva, "Of course I know, how could I not. I am not left handed of course so I cannot understand but –" he pauses, "Come, we will make you a monster with that thing."

From his place at the desk James stands up and follows Silva out. He understands he is playing into the man's hands. The more he follows and the more does what Silva wants the more the last of the mission falls from him but… there is a kindness in this gesture and Bond seems hopeless to overlook it. Perhaps then, it is too late for him. Perhaps the two rats have finally learned to eat everyone else.


	3. Freedom and Bondage

**Summary:** Bond seeks to continue to heal Silva.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/N:** Even less strange.

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**Freedom and Bondage**

****They are in a private jet. Bond shouldn't be surprised; there is no way that Silva wouldn't travel back to England if he could not go in style. And yet when they had arrived at the airport and gone not to a regular plane but to this private jet, he had no doubts was Silva's he had been taken a bit aback, "Are you comfy dear James?" Silva asks him, stalling his thoughts.

He is not sure what comfy means. They are after all, on their way to kill her. He cannot bring himself to say her name. He wonders if that is why Silva calls her mummy instead, because he too cannot call her by her name. He does not think his madness is that great yet, that he would call her mummy, so for now she is a nameless name, one of many. Lost to time, like his marks, "For the most part." He replies.

Silva smiles, "Good, good, this plane is high art. I do not want you to feel any discomfort."

James settles into his chair and tries to think of a distraction, which is when he remembers that. He pulls out the slim box and hands it to Silva, "For you."

Reaching across to the box Silva takes it with something close to glee on his face, "For me?"

"Because of the gun." James tells him.

"Ah."

He watches as Silva opens the box. Inside are two bracelets, both made of thin tough durable rope. James then reaches into his sack lying on the floor by his feet, and takes out another item - a sharp but small, hunting knife. Silva narrows his eyes at him, "And what do you plan to do with that dear James?"

He beings to explain, "The bracelets are your bondage, during the time with the Chinese. You will put the first one on, and then cut it, and then you will put the second one on to never forget."

James knows that his gift is a bit odd, but Silva had set him loose in China for a small while before they had left. He does not fear that James will leave him. The agent had long since sealed his fate when he had given up to Silva, after all those months on the island. Where he had been broken not by fists or hands but with twisted truths and kindness, a kindness she had never shown. Since he had spoken those horrible words, _"What do you need me to do?"_

When he had seen the bracelets then he had gotten them. They feel a bit sentimental but he could not have stopped himself from getting them if he had tried.

He looks up at Silva who grins at him, his madness clearly evident on his face, "Oh dearheart, for me? You should not have."

Instinctively James knows this. But it does not change the joy he feels when Silva reaches out for the knife. He is truly lost.


	4. Throw it all Away

**Summary:** Silva gives his final gift and James reacts.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/N:** Not much to say. This is the end of my little verse.

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**Throw it All Away**

****The new apartment Bond shares with Silva in New York is far to lavish for his tastes. But Silva had liked it, and seeing Silva happy brought him joy. Part of him wants to ask where the money for it came from but another part of him knows better.

This is his home now. He cannot go back to England; he cannot go back to Queen and Country. He had grabbed onto Silva to run the second the body had hit the floor, the second she had been killed. He remembers the panic, the fear of everyone. He remembers dragging Silva away, trying not to look at her, at her blank eyes. Once they were outside their driver taking them to the airport, Silva had turned to him, fucked him there in the car. And Bond had responded in his desperation. It was done. It was done. They could rest.

Of course it wasn't really done. Bond knew Silva too well. After he had returned the list of MI6 agents, at Bond's instance, they had done enough damage and she was dead, he had felt some small amount of release. But he knew Silva had a type of madness that would not end here. It would consume and it would destroy and soon Silva would need to hurt again, to find something to break again. Bond did not doubt this. But it would not be him; in this at least he was resolute.

The door behind him opens and he can her Silva humming God Save the Queen. Bond is sure Silva finds it funny. He is holding a box, which he places on Bond's lap as he settles down next to him on the couch, "For you dear James."

James pauses in the middle of his drink and puts it on the table across from him. He had thought with his last gift that this would have come to an end. He is surprised even if he knows he should not be. He opens it slowly and stares at shock at what looks up at him.

The small porcelain bulldog that she had on her desk stares back up at him. He swallows unsure of what to do, of what this means, if this is another game of Silva's. He looks over the man who has kicked his feet up on the table, "I am afraid I do not understand."

He wants to say more but all he can remember is her face staring up at him. Silva smiles peacefully at him, "It is what you want to make of it, you have been so oh, sad about her for a little while now. This is to help you remember, keep her in your heart. It sounds silly my dear but I do mean it."

Now that Silva has spoken he understands it for what it is. Silva is trying to cheer him up, twisted as it may be. He is trying to give him something of her, because he knows that he took her from him too, in so many ways. He stares at the dog and then closes the box, stands up, and crushes it under his foot. Silva looks shocked, "I do not need it." James tells him.

Silva looks at the crushed dog and then at him, "Do you now darling?"

James nods and then leans down and grips Silva's tie, twisting it a little, but not too tight. Silva, ever since his gift has gotten better about this, but still he can see a little flicker of fear in his eyes, when he goes to fast too much. Not to say that he always takes that position in their relationship, but now that she is dead he has been given more chances, few as they are.

Holding the tie he leads Silva into their shared bedroom and strips him, one article of clothing at a time. He then sheds his clothes. When they are both naked he kisses Silva's scars. One by one, as if they are precious to him, and then goes to sit on the bed. He takes Silva's hand and brings him down with him.

Only later while Silva is fucking him, while he is giving this man the rest of his everything, does he speak, "Why dear James, why do you not need that anymore, why did you crush it?"

And James whispers slowly, measured, "For you. Always for you."

Silva smiles and thrusts a little harder, a little faster, causing James to grip him a little tighter. Then he answers, "Same my dear."

In that small moment Bond thinks they have found something a little like love.

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*I might write more between the lines (or even a small Prologue) but for the most part I consider this the end of the line for this set of fics.


End file.
